by Stephen Leigh
“The woman who came here? How did she—?”
Another quick shake—she knew Seann James’ tendency to ramble. “No, not Ichiko. A lieutenant from First Base. Wait . . .” Ichiko lifted her hand to her ear as Seann James watched her, puzzled. She touched the contact there. “Machiko, tell Ichiko I’m with Seann James now,” she said to the air.
Then: “Saoirse?”
“I’m in the apothecary, Ichiko. Seann James, Gray Threads. What can yeh do for someone infected with that?”
James looked at her with rheum-laden eyes. “It’s not that simple, Saoirse. We give every child born here on the archipelago a draught of Blue Mullein and Tincture of Gingifer along with a few other herbs once every five years for their first half century. All the clans do the same, even those on the mainland. That’s for protection against ever getting the infection in the first place. If a child is unlucky enough to still contract the disease, well, there’s not much we can do at that point. We keep them as comfortable as possible; we give them another draught, as strong as they can tolerate. But still around three in ten of ’em will die—though before we came up with the Blue Mullein and Tincture of Gingifer procedure . . .”
“I understand, Seann,” Saoirse said hurriedly to stop what she suspected would be an entire history of Gray Threads treatment. “However, the Terran has never had your draught. They’ve never been exposed to our world at all until a cycle ago. Isn’t there something you could do?”
Seann James shook his head dolefully. “Nothing that I believe would work. I’m sorry.”
Saoirse nodded. “Ichiko . . .” she began, but Ichiko was already responding.
“I heard you and the Seann talking through your earpiece, Saoirse. Can Seann James put together an extremely strong draught of that potion? That’s at least worth a try and is a better option than anything we have right now. I can have someone from First Base fly a flitter over to the archipelago to get it and take it back to First Base. I’ll have a shuttle sent down to bring it up here.”
And I’ll have to talk to Kekeki and tell her not to bother this flitter . . . Saoirse sighed and relayed the request to Seann James, who rummaged through the vials and bottles in the room, the glass clinking as he examined them. “I have everything I need. I could have it ready by Low Twelfth, but I can’t make any promises as to its efficacy.”
“Just do it,” Saoirse told him, anticipating Ichiko’s answer. “Thank you, Seann. Ichiko, did you get that?”
“Got it, and please tell Seann James how much I appreciate his efforts. I owe you and Clan Mullin. If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know. Meanwhile, I’ll get things started on my end. Saoirse, thank you. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
Saoirse found herself smiling involuntarily at that. “I need to talk to Kekeki right away,” she said, knowing Ichiko would understand the reason. “Meanwhile, Seann James will get the potion ready. Let me know if it works. Tell Lieutenant Bishara that we’ll all be praying to Spiorad Mór for her recovery.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I’ll let you know when the flitter’s heading over, so that I know Kekeki’s agreeable. Talk to you soon. AMI, end contact.”
And with that, there was a click and a hiss in her ear, then silence.
* * *
“I’ll let you know when the flitter’s heading over, so that I know Kekeki’s agreeable. Talk to you soon. AMI, end contact.” Then: “AMI, send Nagasi and the med team a copy of that conversation. Send it to Commander Mercado and the captain as well.”
Nagasi nodded in response. “We all heard it.”
Dr. Huang, behind the glass, agreed. “I’ve already told the team to be ready, and we’ll do everything in our power to keep her alive until this potion reaches us. And even if the Inish medicine does little or nothing, we’ll take a sample into the lab, pull it apart, and see if we can purify and concentrate it to create something that will work.”
AMI added.
She wasn’t even vaguely hungry, but it seemed impolitic, at the very least, to decline. “Tell the commander I’ll meet him in the Bridge Level Mess in 15 minutes,” she said aloud.
“Lunch?” Nagasi asked Ichiko.
“Yes. Not that I feel at all like eating.” Ichiko’s gaze drifted over to the isolation chamber, where Dr. Huang was again hovering over Chava.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the lieutenant.”
“Thanks.” Ichiko walked back over to the glass, staring at Chava. She found herself counting the slow, machine-assisted breaths. One, two, three, four . . . At five, she turned away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she told Nagasi.
When she walked into the bridge mess, Luciano waved at her from a small corner table. There was a food tray in front of Luciano, and another that had been set in front of the empty seat; it held a bowl of miso soup and an array of tempura-battered chicken and vegetables.
As she sat, she felt the tingle of a privacy shield quickly surrounding them. The room around them became blurry and indistinct, and the noise suppression made her ears feel as if they were blocked. “Not exactly the way to stop people from gossiping about us,” she said to him.
“You think they don’t do that already?”
She decided not to answer that—they both knew that they did. “Why the privacy shield?” she asked instead.
“I wanted to tell you that we’ve identified eight people involved in the attack on you and Lieutenant Bishara from the recording recovered from the flitter. The captain told Minister Plunkett that she expects him to have Clan Lewis, as the constabulary of the towns, charge each of them with attempted murder and assault, and dole out appropriate punishment.”
“Are these people members of Clan Plunkett?”
“Five of them, yes, including two of the sons of Plunkett’s sister.”
“Oh.” The sour emptiness in Ichiko’s stomach burned.
“Indeed,” Luciano responded. “That pretty much tells us that the attack was deliberate and probably ordered by Plunkett.”
“How has he responded?”
“With total silence. He hasn’t answered any of the calls we’ve made to his com-unit since you left him.”
Ichiko picked up the chopsticks on the table in front of her. She didn’t touch the food, just tapped the ends on the tabletop. “How’d the captain take that?”
“Not well, I’m afraid. She’s left a repeating message on his com-unit to consider our diplomatic ties broken until she receives a response from him. She’s having a squad from First Base go down to Dulcia to hand him the formal notice that if your attackers we’ve identified haven’t been jailed and charged within a week, we won’t be giving Dulcia any technological help or supplies before we leave.”
“They survived here for centuries without any help from us. I doubt those threats are going to make any difference.”
The corners of Luciano’s lips curled up in a momentary smile at that. “I told her the same thing. But that’s the only ammunition we have. The captain’s not about to directly attack the Canines. That would be a step too far, especially once the UCE learns about it.”
Ichiko picked up a piece of the tempura chicken and put it down again. “So Plunkett gets away with the attack and exposing poor Chava to Canis Lupus. And what Chava faces is potentially a lifetime of isolation, even if . . .” Ichiko put the chopsticks down again, pressing her lips together, not wanting to finish the sentence.
“Yes,” Luciano answered. He looked down at his own untouched food.
“What about the Inish? What about what we’ve learned about
the arracht? Luciano, I want to go back to the archipelago, if only to collect as much information about both of them as I can in that time. I need to convince Kekeki to allow me to make recordings of the arracht, and I also need to learn as much as possible about the Inish and their culture. In fact, I’d love to take Nagasi down with me, and I’m sure he’d . . . .”
She stopped, seeing Luciano shaking his head. “The captain doesn’t want anyone going back downworld right now. In fact, she’s considering pulling the entire staff from First Base as soon as we have the potion from Great Inish.”
“Luciano,” Ichiko started to protest, but he held up his hand.
“That’s the captain’s decision, not mine, but I’d make the same one in her place. We can’t afford to have another incident like what happened with you and Lieutenant Bishara.”
“Then you’re both being shortsighted. I’m sorry, Luciano, but we—and the UCE in general—have a lot to lose by cocooning ourselves on the ship until we leave, especially with what we can glean from the Inish, not to mention that the arracht seem to be our first contact with another truly intelligent species. Are we really going to let all that go to waste?”
Luciano shrugged. “Again, not my decision.”
“And it’s still the wrong one,” Ichiko answered. “I’ll tell the captain exactly that if I need to.” Ichiko pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’m sorry, Luciano. I’m not at all hungry, and I want to get back and see how Chava’s doing. I’ll talk to you later.”
With that, she stepped through the privacy shield without allowing him to respond, feeling the tingling as the clamor of the mess assaulted her ears. She could see a few of the crew staring at her before turning to whisper to those alongside. She ignored them, moving quickly between the tables toward the lifts in the corridor beyond.
* * *
The cavern appeared as it always had as Saoirse paddled her currach into the sheltered waters, the water glowing where her paddle disturbed the surface. She could see Kekeki lifting herself partially from the water and hear Kekeki’s voice in her head against the barrage of audible clicks and hisses.
“Yeh ask much of us,” Kekeki began as the currach nosed onto the ledge, wood grating on stone. Saoirse stepped out to stand under Kekeki’s looming presence, the arracht’s spotted underbelly a pale cliff wall before her.
“I haven’t asked yeh anything yet,” Saoirse responded.
“Yeh don’t have to. We know. Yer going to ask us to let one flitter land safely in a few bells. Yer going to tell me it will leave very quickly and poses no threat to the arracht.”
Saoirse gaped up at Kekeki. “Aye. I don’t know how yeh know, but yer right. And that’s me promise and ’tis also Ichiko’s. The flitter’s no threat to yeh. All it’s going to do is pick up Seann James’ potion and take it to their ship.”
“Those of yer species who live elsewhere on our world are upset with those from the stars. We know that, too. The ones yeh call Uncle Angus and Liam were injured by them.”
Saoirse nodded. “Aye, they were, but they gave as good as they got—and it was as much Angus and Liam’s fault as the Plunketts’. And some of the Mainlanders came to Angus and Liam’s aid—they’re not all bigoted stooks like Minister Plunkett. Everyone in that fight said things they shouldn’t have. If yer afraid of the Terrans or of us . . .”
“We are not afraid,” Kekeki announced loudly. Then, more quietly: “We only wish to be left on our own.”
“I think that’s what will be happening, regardless,” Saoirse told her. “I believe our sky-people are going to leave us soon and it will be centuries before they come back, if they do come back. But I need the arracht to let this flitter come and go—the life of Ichiko’s friend depends on it.”
“We will consider it.”
“No!” Saoirse stamped her foot on the rock, seeing Kekeki start to let herself slip back under the water. “That’s not good enough. I need yeh to promise me this. Now.”
Kekeki’s long forearm tentacles caught on the rocks again. Her eyestalks all swiveled toward Saoirse, and a purple flush ran along her body from her head down to where her body vanished under the water.
“Why?” Kekeki asked.
“Because friendship needs to run both ways before it works: I trust yeh; yeh trust me. Unless yer saying the arracht and the Inish aren’t friends.”
“Friend . . .” The word came out with an audible trill from the arracht, as if she were tasting the word. “That’s not a word for which we have an equivalent in our language. Friend. I know from our plotch connection the feelings that word creates in yeh, but . . .” There was a long pause, and Saoirse wondered whether Kekeki was somehow speaking with the other arracht. “We do trust yeh and yer people, Saoirse. Yer flitter can come, if yeh promise it won’t stay and it won’t interfere with us.”
“I promise,” Saoirse told her. “And thank yeh, Kekeki.”
“I hope yeh can trust these sky-eki,” she said.
“I would trust one of them with my life,” Saoirse answered. “That will have to be enough.”
Kekeki gave a long trill that translated as laughter in Saoirse’s head. “We hope so, too,” she said. “Those people from the mainland clans that they took up with them? They’re going to send them all back like they sent back yer people. Very soon.”
Saoirse took a step back from the water. “What? How do yeh know that?”
“We know that. And we know far more. The syna—the plotch—connects all to us.” And with that, Kekeki pushed away from the ledge and slipped under the water.
Moving forward, Saoirse watched her descending gracefully toward the lights gleaming in the cavern wall. When she could see Kekeki no more, she returned to her currach. Stepping in, she used the oar to push away onto the water once more.
Till The Stars Run Away And The Shadows Eat The Moon
SAOIRSE COULD HEAR THE thrumming of the flitter’s rotors from inside Seann James’ apothecary. James nodded toward the vials on the table in front of him. “G’wan wit’ yeh, then,” he said. “They’re ready. An’ good luck to yer friend.”
“Thank you, Seann.” She hugged him, grabbed the vials, placed them in the padded wooden box that Seann James had provided, and went outside.
The flitter came in high and fast, descending toward the front gate of the Mullin compound. She waved at the flitter and ran through the open ground of the compound toward the main house and the gate, reaching it as the flitter kicked up dust landing just beyond in the dirt lane, its struts groaning. Her sister Gráinne came out from the house to stand alongside her as the flitter landed; Saoirse could see her mam, Angus, and several other of the clan members watching from the open windows. The canopy lifted, and a man in an armored, full bio-shield slid out, though he didn’t move toward her but instead stared at her and Gráinne as well as the clan members watching him. Saoirse noted the weapons holstered at his side. So it’s that serious for them. They’re even wary of the Inish. It reminded her of what she’d said to Kekeki only a bell ago: “I would trust one of them with my life.” What she hadn’t added—but she suspected Kekeki knew—was that she wouldn’t trust any of the rest of them. It seemed the same suspicious nature was true for the Terrans as well.
“You’re Saoirse Mullin?” the man asked, and Saoirse nodded.
“Aye, I am, and this is my sister Gráinne.”
The man glanced at Gráinne quickly, then as quickly appeared to dismiss her as a potential threat. “I’m supposed to pick up a package from you.”
“I have it,” Saoirse told him, showing him the wooden box. When he didn’t immediately move forward, Saoirse stepped toward him. She could see his gaze moving around the landscape, as if anticipating a sudden ambush. Those in the windows were still staring at him. “Look, yer safe here,” she said to him. “I promise. Here, take this back to First Base and send it up to Odysseus. It
’s for Dr. Aguilar to help Lieutenant Bishara.”
His stare returned to her and Gráinne. He took a single step toward her so that he could grab the box. He flipped up the lid, glanced at the vials, then closed the lid again. “Dr. Aguilar said to give you her thanks.”
“Tell her that we all hope this helps.”
The soldier inclined his head, not quite nodding. He turned briskly and climbed back into the flitter, placing the box on the empty seat. Saoirse watched him fasten a harness around the box. Then, without another word, the canopy descended, the door closed and locked, and the rotors began their complaint against the gravitational pull of the planet.
The flitter ascended straight up, then banked sharply and sped away toward the mainland. “What is happening?” Gráinne asked as the flitter streaked over the waves toward blue-gray hills. “Where’s Ichiko?”
Saoirse put her arm around her sister’s shoulder. “We’re trying to help Ichiko’s friend. Seann James is sending her one of his potions.”
“Do I know Ichiko’s friend?”
“Yeh met her when yeh went over to Dulcia with us—the Terran woman who was with Ichiko?”
“Aye, I remember her,” Gráinne said. The flitter vanished into the haze, and Gráinne looked up at Saoirse. “She seemed nice enough. Then I hope it helps.”
“I do, too,” Saoirse whispered. “Come on. Let’s go see what Uncle Patrick is making for supper.”
* * *
Ichiko was waiting as the shuttle docked with Odysseus. She was handed a sealed capsule, now adorned with a biological hazard warning, that contained the box with Seann James’ potion. With a nod to the crew member who gave it to her, she hurried to the lifts for the medical floor. Dr. Huang was waiting there, already in her bio-shield. “Chava?” Ichiko asked as she handed the doctor the package.
“Her condition’s worsening, I’m afraid. I’m glad this got here when it did; I was beginning to worry that we’d lose her before . . . well . . .” Ichiko found herself trembling at the news, but Dr. Huang kept talking, her voice calm and unemotional. “We have her ready for the injection, then I’ll send a sample down to Nagasi in the lab. He’s waiting for it.” Ichiko saw the woman smile, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “Don’t look so worried. With some luck, maybe this is all we’ll need. Let’s find out.”